


our weathered hearts

by nascence (noktah)



Category: TOO | Ten Oriented Orchestra (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26598976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noktah/pseuds/nascence
Summary: There are words stuck in Kyungho’s throat. The kinds that might ruin his life. And he wants to say them to Minsu very, very badly.
Relationships: Jang Kyungho/Kim Minsu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	our weathered hearts

**Author's Note:**

> god, I'm sorry if this looks messy. I had this drafted for a month and i just need to get this out of my system before I go insane. this is also very dramatic and HHHHHHHHHH I'm sorry I subjected these lovely people into... this was supposed to be a lovely little drabble about kyungho being clingy to minsu but idk how it spiraled down to this so yeah.
> 
> yeah. I hope you still find enjoyment out of this.
> 
> (also i know that minsu picked americano in that too mystery ep but let's just consider he was not interested to taste it here)

**december; cloudy with no signs of sun or snow**

There are words stuck in Kyungho’s throat. The kinds that might ruin his life. And he wants to say them to Minsu very, very badly.

It’s stupid, really, how his synapses urge him to move even further on this steeping path, rocky and unstable. He’s still a freshman. Minsu is not graduating in two or three years. He has plenty of time to think about offering his heartbeats to Minsu. And he has plenty of time to let go without speaking out his feelings.

Two days ago, Minsu’s fingers still hovering on the call button, hesitation sparking from his eyes. _The Invisible Boyfriend_ , Jeyou whispered to him two seasons ago when the summer sun was high and Minsu hid under the shade with his phone on his ear—happy. Jisu mentioned that he already broke up with Minsu back in September, but the sight in front of him indicated the opposite. When Minsu caught him staring, he gave him a big grin, before continued to laugh with the unknown voice. Kyungho turned his face away to his opened closet and finally packed his baggage.

Now they’re here on the station decorated so loud with Santa Clauses and bells and Christmas trees. Minsu’s sitting beside him, swinging his legs. Eyes peered out to the horizon where trains come in. He was very stubborn about accompanying him to the station, said _it might get lonely even when you’re sitting in a crowd,_ which is an understatement to the way Kyungho folds his arms and not recklessly touch anything that’s not his. 

Ten seconds before the door closes. Kyungho’s on the train with a bag of Minsu’s homemade chocolate chips in his hand. Minsu is on the other side, navy knitted-scarf pulled up to cover his flushing nose and his flushing ears. Does not notice how messy his bangs are. Kyungho’s empty hand reaches out to fix them and his eyes finally peeking out from the curtain of his hair. Kyungho’s lungs hitch.

“I like you,” Kyungho breathes out. Words are no longer rooted in his windpipes but somewhat muted under the piercing announcement of his train departing. Perhaps his sanity too. _Merry Christmas!_ says the cheery announcer, doubling over his second confession of the day. “I _like_ you.”

He does not kiss him. He does not ask for a reply. He does not know if Minsu even caught the words anyway.

When the train moves, Minsu’s face is blurred out like a fleeting shooting star.

**july; thirty-eight-degree celsius**

It’s summer break and the dorm is about to be empty again, collecting dust in the unseen corners.

Jeyou pitched an idea that all of them, all eight boys with different layers and interests, should go to the beach together before they separate to be with their families. Dipping naked feet in the salty water. Footprints and handwritings on the sand. Little fireworks under the night sky, crackling and sparkling. Living their youth to the fullest with cliche things. Everyone agreed easily.

Jaeyun, Minsu, and Kyungho, unfortunately, lost rock, paper, and scissors and left with the task of buying cold drinks. Just for fun, Minsu suggested they play again to determine who’s gonna have a long conversation with the cashier. Kyungho and Minsu threw out paper and Jaeyun made the other boys happy by losing, the regret shivers of his clenched palms. Kyungho feels grateful, nonetheless, and hands him the order list, then watches Minsu plays with a stray cat with his finger. 

Then Jaeyun walks out of the Gongcha building, leaving an empty space in front of the cashier. The guy at the front of the queue tapping his foot impatiently.

“Hey, Minsu,” he called out. Minsu turns his head to the voice. “There’s no iced americano here! Do you want your usual order instead?”

Taro bubble tea. 70% sugar. With extra pearls. Kyungho knows it too. “Yeah, that’s fine!”

Kyungho watches Jaeyun claims his spot again and hears faint mouthfuls of apologies. He strides to Minsu’s side, crouching down. Arms folded on his knees. The cat leans his nose to Minsu’s fingers.

“I don’t think I ever saw you drink coffee before,” he comments.

Minsu hums. “Never really liked the taste, but this summer I just want to try something new, you know. Is that wrong?”

“No, not really,” says Kyungho, except that Minsu’s cheeks blossom like roses, spreading carmine petals across his cheekbones like wildfire to the tips of his ears. The silence grows as he clenches his fist, pressing his instincts to trace the blush with his digits and ask _your leaping heart, who is it for?_

**january; bright sky—filled with new hopes and resolutions**

_hyung, happy new year  
when we meet again treat me some pizza pls <3_

_you didn’t even pay your share last time  
brat  
you’re not moving out next semester?_

_nah  
i like staying there  
too comfy  
and i have u >:)_

_mmm wanna be roommates then_

_oh chihoon hyung going to move out?_

_noooo  
it’s minsu_

_what_

_he didn’t tell you?  
weird_

**june; thunder in the distance**

Kyungho packs up his laptop and books in his bag and walks past rows upon rows of students either sleeping or studying their assess off in the library past one am. Running down the stairways and seeing flashes of lightning beyond the windows, the sound of his footsteps filling up the university, the roads, the hallway to his dorm. Presses the secret passcode and the lights inside spilled out to welcome him along with muffled synth blast from his room.

Minsu is still awake, then, he presumes. Proven to be true when he finds Minsu sitting on his bed and typing his brain cells out into his laptop. Glasses with no lens sitting uselessly pretty on his nose bridge. _To help me focus_ , Minsu reasoned back then when they shopped together, trailing his finger from his temples down to the tips of his hands, _If I look like a dweeb then I surely can act like it._

 _Not everyone who wears glasses is smart, though,_ Kyungho pointed out.

_Still, does it look good on me?_

_Nah,_ his simple mouth lied. Minsu bought it anyway and posted a selfie with it a day after, leaning his body onto the iron parapet and Seoul stretched to the edge of the horizon behind him. Chihoon left kissy emojis and Jisu proudly commented _I'm the genius photographer everyone bows to me_. Kyungho only left a like but he did it when everyone asleep. Minsu noticed it though, nudging his feet under the table when they ate breakfast in the morning.

 _I looked cute in those glasses, right?_ he provoked, kicking Kyungho’s knee with his toes playfully. Sing-songs, _Your mouth lies, but your actions speak the truth_.

“Where’s everyone?” Kyungho asks, haphazardly flinging his bag on his bed.

“Still out. You didn’t see them in the study rooms?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Kyungho gravitates towards Minsu’s bed, throws his body onto his senior, and allows himself to have a semblance of deeper intimacy by putting his head on Minsu’s lap. “’m just very sleepy.”

“Kyungho, you have your own bed.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Minsu shakes his thigh. “My thigh gonna feel asleep on me if you lay there.”

“You can push me off,” Kyungho retorts, slowly feeling his soul drifts into slumber.

“You’ll be hurt, you idiot.” Minsu sighs, defeated. “You know what, I’ll let you stay here until I’m done with this. Okay?”

One eye cracks open to see Minsu waves his hand towards his laptop and whatever unedited paragraphs are written in there. Probably a film analysis. He recalls Minsu discussing _The Host_ and ecocriticism once but he could not remember much of the details. Too focused on the golden rims of Minsu’s fake glasses and how they framed his face.

“Whatever you want,” he yawns, drowsiness pillaging his voice. Minsu must have sensed how tired Kyungho is. Otherwise, he would still hear synths conquering their four-walled palace and Minsu humming to it.

By the time his eyes fluttered shut again, he feels fingers mindlessly curling into his strands, slow and languid, lulling him to a deep slumber.

**january; the wind sweeps up the city**

“ _Finally_ ,” Minsu grits out, exasperated. “ _Why the_ fuck _are you avoiding my messages? Not answering my calls? Do you just never want to see me again? Is that it?"_

Minsu is not the type to get angry. Kyungho only saw Minsu blew up thrice. One, during a mafia game, where Chan insisted to pin the mafia label on Minsu and everyone believed him. Minsu took it too seriously and sat in the corner, watching them from the distance with a sharp frown. Chan had to buy him some expensive salad to appease his mood. Two, when he was about to demand half the report from his groupmate but that groupmate never answered his call all day long. That report had to be submitted the next day. Minsu almost threw his phone out of their dorm and left its fate to the hands of gravity, but Jaeyun calmed him down by offering to help him. Three, when he caught Minsu calling the invisible boyfriend. He never knew what the problem was, but that was the first time Kyungho learned how Minsu’s voice could be so piercing, so venomous—spitting out endless poison arrows. He remembered him throwing words like _how is it my fault?!_ and _not picking up calls!_ and _this is a mistake!_ Kyungho made him a hot chocolate after that, lying that he made two by accident, and he felt triumphant when Minsu’s lips quirked up, whispering his sincerest _thank you_.

Not today though. The poison arrows going to pierce his eardrums now, spreading venom all the way down to his beating heart. He dreads it, but at the same time, he couldn’t shake the frisson of happiness in him when he heard Minsu’s voice for the first time this year.

“Happy new year,” is all he could mumble. How cowardly.

“ _Really? That’s all you have to say now? Happy new year?”_ Minsu scoffs disbelievingly.

_No. Are you really moving out? Do you want to live with The Invisible Boyfriend after you broke up? Did you even end your relationship with him? Or, I don’t know, are you just sick of me to the point you didn’t even tell me about that? Maybe you did listen to my confession. Maybe you thought you’re being merciful._

“Yeah. Happy new year,” Kyungho chokes out, each syllable strained. He looks at the mirror and finds a boy. A very tired boy with his worn-out face and worn-out heart.

“ _Oh, Kyungho,_ ” he whispers, omniscient-like, like he knows how caliginous his thoughts are right now. As if he wants to be the ray of light in his darkened mind. He loves him for that. And he hates him for that. “ _Don’t run away from your own heart_.”

**november; a clear sky but no moon in sight**

Minsu fell asleep on Kyungho’s shoulder, still tired after prepping for a presentation and being involved in the Halloween festival committee. His crown tickles his jaw and his neck, but it’s still a comfortable weight nonetheless. He adjusts his position a little bit so Minsu doesn’t have to wake up cricking his neck. He fixes his bangs, smoothen it down until the tips cover his eyebrows. He pulls up his sweater’s collar which was falling off-shoulder, revealing his collarbone, and Kyungho wonders a little bit about how it would feel like to press kisses on every patch of skin there.

Jisu, who visited their room because he wanted to borrow Minsu’s book and practically barraged his closet and drawers, watches his antics amusedly.

“You’re so restless when it comes to him,” Jisu comments with a chuckle.

“Minsu _hyung_ would say the opposite,” says Kyungho, mindlessly playing Minsu’s hair with an idle finger. “He complained a lot about me not reacting to his affection.”

“Well, how is he supposed to know you showed your affection because you only did it whenever he was asleep? Just like now,” Jisu points out, which draws a half-hearted laugh out of Kyungho’s throat. “You should have told him.”

“About what, exactly?”

Jisu rolls his eyes in disbelief with Kyungho’s stubbornness. “Really? Do I have to list out every single time you orbit around him like a mindless satellite?”

“ _Hyung_ , please, you forget everything,” Kyungho retorts. “You don’t even remember when’s your cleaning day.”

“Fair point, but I don’t have to remember any dates to know you always search for him,” Jisu sneers. “You do it far too often, God only knows if Minsu noticed or not.”

“Well, there’s no lie in that.” Kyungho concentrates his gaze at the gap between Minsu’s fingers. “Am I that obvious?”

“Obvious? Obvious?!” Of course you are _that_ obvious!” Jisu scratches his neck. “Even Chihoon _hyung_ knew you liked him. And you know how dense he could be concerning romance.”

Kyungho smiles knowingly. “So what do you want me to do? Confess to him? When he already set his heart to someone I don’t even fucking know?”

Jisu clenches his fist, angry at the impolite tone Kyungho gave to him, but he holds his emotion and drops him a bomb. “He broke up with him back in September. That oughta motivate you to disclose your feelings. Or, I don’t know, you can keep wallowing in your deprecative self as long as you want,” Jisu taunts before he leaves for his class like he didn’t just warn him that meteors are crashing down on Kyungho’s existence. Burning his semblance of sanity. Setting him and his tedium ablaze with confusion, then determination, and then the fear of the new possibilities surfacing in front of him. 

**january; feels like a storm closing in**

_“Kyungho, are you that scared of me? Of my answer?_ ”

Kyungho wonders where Minsu is right now. Probably in his room, surrounded by shelves of novels and poetry books. He imagined the colorful bookmarks crowding like floating neon signs; the lines under his favorite passages; the post-it notes containing keywords and question marks. He learns from Minsu’s photo feed that his bookshelves are white like elephants’ tusks and there are rows of his favorite quotes written by his hands taped above his desks. 

He wonders if he’s not so frightened right now—and not frightened back then—he could stand there in his room now, trailing the history of Kim Minsu in the motes of his old schoolbooks and his yellowed vacation photos when he was a child and his career plans shoved at the back of his drawer, still a lingering concern in his mind.

He wonders if he’s not frightened, he wouldn’t be this speculative.

“Maybe,” he eventually admits.

Kyungho can hear Minsu’s nose bristles in anger. “ _Why?_ ”

“Because I know.” Kyungho swallows. “I know that you’re gonna reject me.”

“ _How could you know?! You didn’t even give me a chance to answer!_ ” Minsu jabs, furious. “ _Kyungho, I need you to know that I wanted to reply_ yes _so, so badly. Because I like you! I_ do _like you_. _But the thing is I just fell out of love with someone you never knew because of you. That’s how important you are to me! But I don’t want you to feel I would answer yes just because I’m only using you as a distraction because you never were. You never were...”_ Minsu’s voice grows weaker and weaker, akin to a dying sun, and Kyungho wants to hold him tight even if his skin would burn from touching him. But, no, he has to live with the fact he’s the one who caused this—he’s the one who grows thorns in one day and pricks Minsu’s heart in agony. “ _Even so, when you left me there in the station with your confession, I only feel pain. How could I trust my heart in the hands of someone who would not even listen to me?”_

**september; a light shower damping the browning leaves**

“Hey,” Minsu whispers softly, shaking Kyungho awake. “Can I sleep with you?”

Blinking to arouse himself to wakefulness. “What’s wrong?”

Minsu pauses for a bit, thinking for an excuse, then opts to answer, “Nightmares.”

Kyungho extends his arms out to Minsu, cupping his cheeks and feels wetness passing through his cheekbones. Tears, perhaps. Or he just washed his face, clearing whatever false feelings gnawing inside him at the moment. Either way, Kyungho nods, then scoots over closer to the wall so Minsu could sleep on this tiny bed. Kyungho stares at the blank-slate wall, feeling the bed dipped under their weights, the blanket uncovered, then his feet scrubbing Kyungho’s shins. 

_Thank you_ , his mouth ghosts on Kyungho’s nape, and shivers tumbling up and down his spine. His heart craves for Minsu to ask him to turn around and orders Kyungho to hug him, finding comfort in Kyungho’s somnolent heartbeats, but he is far too sleepy to attempt it anyway and prays luck would grant him another chance to embrace him, to have the sun sleeping in his arms. 

Much to his disappointment, though, he does not find Minsu in his bed in the morning. Eventually, he discovers him washing his face in the bathroom, bloodshot eyes and a reticent smile.

**october; the sun smiles as it witnesses the way seoul withers**

“You don’t drink iced americano anymore?” Kyungho asks, glancing at the fingers peeking out of Minsu’s long-sleeved cardigan as they hold a cup of taro bubble tea, glowing soft purple.

“Really? You just noticed this now?” Minsu asks before takes a seat in front of Kyungho and sips his tea. His face shifts into pleasure as he relishes in his favorite taste. Kyungho watches him intently. “I’ve started drinking taro again since a month ago. You don’t know?”

Kyungho shakes his head. Taps his cup of hot chocolate three times. “I rarely saw you last month. You are still so busy with the Halloween festival prep.”

“Oh, right.” Minsu tilts his head, grinning. “Did you miss seeing me in our room?”

“No,” says Kyungho, too rushed to be not guilty, and immediately flushes in embarrassment. Minsu laughs as he smacks Kyungho’s back, full of energy.

“It’s okay, to be honest,” Minsu confides wistfully, which is pretty hypocritical of him to say since Minsu is not even being truthful about the existence of his boyfriend to Kyungho, his own roommate. Wonders if there’s something wrong going on with him if Minsu doesn’t trust him with his secrets.

“So, be honest with me, then,” Kyungho muses, thinking about their knees knocking under the table and his watch history in his phone: two people dancing without restraint under the rain as if they are the owner of this universe. _Would you answer yes if I asked you to have a dance with me?_ “Why did you stop drinking iced americano?”

Minsu fiddles with his sleeve. “Why are you so curious about that? It’s just a drink.”

“I’m just being curious, that’s all,” Kyungho inclines, tracing the rim of his cup. “Like what you said: it’s just a drink. There’s no big reason behind that, right?” Minsu’s body jolts at that as if every patch of his skin recalls something unpleasant. Kyungho immediately feels guilty and grabs Minsu’s cold hand. Croaks, “ _Hyung,_ I’m sorry. It's okay if you don’t tell me anything. It’s okay. I’m sorry if I’m being a little too intrusive now. I’m sorry.”

Minsu exhales a long, shaky breath, then shakes his head. He’s smiling faintly, definitely trying to assure Kyungho that everything is okay, but Kyungho sees a tiny stroke of vulnerability painted in his lips as he speaks, “I just grew tired of it. That’s all.”

**january; the stars still shining bright despite the falling snows**

“Brought your favorite drink,” Kyungho says in lieu of a normal greeting. “Taro bubble tea. 70% sugar. Extra pearls.”

Minsu stops at his entrance, pupils widening in surprise as he’s trying to understand how the hell Kyungho is standing in front of his house. Gloveless and scarfless despite the hints of snowstorm approaching by. The tips of his nose and his ears redden like a blaring, warning sign. His eyes cast to one lone cup of taro bubble tea in Kyungho’s hand then going back up, up, up to Kyungho’s countenance. Kyungho ponders what Minsu witnesses there, but he must have known Kyungho’s mask already cracks under Minsu’s gaze. Wonders if Minsu sensed the yearning in him bursting out like spring blooms.

“It’s winter,’’ Minsu reminds him, walking closer and closer towards Kyungho.

“I know. But you’d still drink it,” asserts Kyungho, strides forward as well. The only thing that separates them now is Minsu’s gate.

“Don’t apologize like this,” Minsu begs in exasperation. “You know that I’m very weak of you, aren’t you?”

“No. Honestly, no.” Kyungho flashes him a sideways smile. “My eyes always search for you, but that doesn’t mean I can see everything—your actions, your thoughts, your secrets.”

Minsu swallows, turning his head to the side. “He saw you, you know.”

“What?”

“He saw you with me twice on the campus. Said he never witnessed me laughing so bright when I was with him,” Minsu reveals, dipping his head further below. Nervously moving his foot forward and backward, leaving a short-lived footprint. Kyungho slowly blinks, questions swirling inside his skull, but he doesn’t open his mouth. He needs to listen. “Thought you were the reason I didn’t call him as much as before. Thought you were the reason I didn’t meet him as much as before. Thought you were the reason I didn’t love him as much as before.”

“Am I, though?” Kyungho whispers. “Am I really the reason?”

“Yes,” Minsu discloses, rubbing his face with his hands now. His voice is muffled now, but Kyungho still listens. “But because I like you, I hurt him instead. And like I said before, I didn’t want you to think that you are simply a distraction—a replacement until I found someone better. So, I was scared that if I ever entered a relationship with you, I would hurt you.” Minsu finally breaks. He sobs. His shoulders quiver, trying to get himself together, but everything he kept inside for months ruptures him. “Then you confessed. You confessed! You have no idea how happy I was, how my heart soared to the sky that day. I thought you confessed before you left because you were embarrassed so I waited. But you never called. You never texted me either. I was so fucking furious, then. You’ve heard me. Thought your reason was ridiculous. But I’m just a hypocrite, aren’t I?” He chuckles morosely. “Expecting you to accept my fear without speaking about them. Without even accepting yours. Said you didn’t listen to me when you always do. You always do in your own ways. I’m the one who’s not listening. And all this time, I hurt you—“

“No, no, no—” he interrupts. He’s thankful that Minsu’s gate is not the sky-high kind—high enough to prevent kids from climbing out, but low enough for Kyungho to catch Minsu’s hands off his face and wipes off the wetness tainting his cheeks. Drops the tea and the cup breaks, purple spilling into the whites of snow. “I hurt you as well. I left you with hope, but I didn’t know that because I was afraid of you when I shouldn’t have. Even if you didn’t like me—love me—” Kyungho swallows the sacred word, fumbles through his brain to chain his thoughts into one coherent thread, but Minsu shushes him in understanding. His face shifts from sadness to amusement.

“God, us and our cowardly little hearts,” Minsu chuckles wetly, still sobbing. “I think we need to relearn what communication is.”

Upon hearing that, Kyungho reexamines the way they communicate for the past months—constantly talking about their assignments and activities, acknowledging each other’s presence to the point they’re being conscious of each other, finding gems that they always thought were impossible to afford to, so they never try to delve deeper into their connection and just convincing themselves that they were content admiring from a great distance.

“We should,” Kyungho echoes. “We should.”

Minsu opens the gate and gestures to Kyungho to come inside. He wipes his tears and snot off his countenance with the back of his hand. “Let’s go inside, then. I’ll ask my father to lend you his clothes.”

“Wait—I can just go home,” Kyungho sputters, not expecting this kind of development when they just poured their hearts out with such intensity, something that you’d find in a movie.

“Kyungho, it’s snowing hard. There’s no train at this hour. And you’re maybe at the brink of hypothermia,” Minsu tells him, matter-of-factly. “I’m not letting you escape again.”

“But _hyung,_ your parents— _“_

“I’ll talk to them about our circumstances, so, _please_ ,” Minsu keens. “I don’t know what we will be in the morning, but stay,” Minsu grips Kyungho’s freezing fingers and plants seeds of warmth with his touch. He lifts his gaze and Kyungho is entranced at the way his reflection finds home in Minsu’s eyes. “Stay.”

**february; winter winds melting into spring**

Kyungho is looking out to the sight of Seoul beyond the parapet when Jisu enters the balcony and watches an airplane flying by.

“Looks like he’s staying, huh?” Jisu begins.

“Who? Minsu _hyung_?”

Jisu nods. They are the only ones who just arrived in the dorm. The others still stay in their parents’ homes, helping businesses or still stuck in the hands of capitalism. Minsu was the latest one who entered the dorm, immediately put all of his clothes back in the closet and reorganized his shelves and desk upon arrival. Then, he just went to sleep in his jeans. Hadn’t even changed into his sleepwear.

“Yeah. Looks like his brother decided to stay in his uni dorm instead of living together with him,” Kyungho explains. “He’s a nice person, so thoughtful.”

“You knew Minsu’s brother?” asks Jisu, surprised. Kyungho nods. “What— Did you get together or something?”

Kyungho shows a lazy smile. “No. We know that we liked each other, but we’re still friends.”

Jisu blinks, then his eyebrows scrunched. “Excuse me, what? But—but why?

“We need time,” Kyungho replies, turns his body around so his back is against the railing and glances at the turning clock and the clean calendar. He could imagine that calendar would be filled up with colorful inks—loud reminders of birthdays and exams. He looks down at his knees and feels brief gratitude that he can stand here with his loved ones. “We hurt each other unknowingly before because we’re afraid of something intangible. So we think we need to understand and be honest with ourselves first—our needs and our fears—before attempting a romantic relationship.”

Jisu narrows his gaze, confused. “But that’s the point of a relationship, no? Figuring yourselves out while still pursuing both of your happiness.”

Kyungho laughs. “I understand what you mean, but Minsu _hyung_ insists that he needs to sort himself out before he wants to kiss me. I try to respect that decision.” Jisu looks so befuddled Kyungho guffaws more at him. “ _Hyung_ , it’s really simple. We’re just taking it slow, that’s all. Building trust that we never really tended to before. And see if our feelings are aligned or not.”

“I don’t even want to understand why you’re taking the long route.” Jisu sighs, exasperated. “But I see you’re content with your decision, so I’m not even gonna comment on it.” Jisu then hugs him tight, reciprocated by more laughs but Jisu pays Kyungho no mind. Firmly, he assures Kyungho, “Whatever happens, know that we’re here for you two.”

Kyungho pats Jisu’s back, reverent in his gratitude. “Thank you.”

Jisu goes back to his room. Kyungho basks more in the residue of winter winds before he walks into his room as well, finding Minsu sitting on his bed with his eyes shut. Still dozy, Kyungho observes, but he’s definitely awake. _Beautiful_ , his heart adds.

Kyungho presses his hand and all that weight of longing to Minsu’s cheek. “Hey, what are you thinking about?”

Minsu opens his eyes and beams, empties Kyungho’s lungs right away.

“They say it’ll be sunny tomorrow,” says Minsu, indulging himself closer into Kyungho’s touch. Eyes closed in reverie. “We should go out. Walk along the beach or something.”

“Sure,” Kyungho hums, smiling. “That sounds nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated.  
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/noktah_twt)! if you like this, please consider to leave a tip on [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/noktah) or [trakteer (for indonesians)](https://trakteer.id/noktah)!


End file.
